


Till the End of Time

by Megara09



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cancer, M/M, i cried through this whole thing, luce prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megara09/pseuds/Megara09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want a divorce."<br/>Four words you never want to hear. <br/>For Dean Winchester, they were four words he never thought he would hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till the End of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wibblywobblydemonydeducythings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblywobblydemonydeducythings/gifts).



_I want a divorce._

Four words you never want to hear.

For Dean Winchester, they were four words he never thought he _would_ hear. As far as he knew, his marriage to his husband Cas was great. Sure, they fought, but they always made up fairly quickly. When Cas had choked out that dreaded, life-altering sentence, Dean had frozen up.

First of all, it came out of _nowhere_. They'd called in a pizza, were settling in to watch some dumb comedy Sam had told them about. Sure, Cas had been a little standoffish for a few days, but that was nothing new. Dean had been dealing with his husband's lack of social graces for close to a decade.

Now, faced with his stomach instantaneously screwing up into knots and his palms growing wet with sweat, he choked out, “W-what?”

Refusing to look at Dean, Cas repeated, “I want a divorce.”

Panic setting in, Dean turned wild eyes to Cas. “Is this about me leaving my clothes on the floor? Because I know you always fuss about it, but I didn't think it was that big a deal,” he babbled.

Still refusing to look at him, Cas shook his head. “No, Dean. That's not why.”

Anger flowed through Dean. “Yeah?” he demanded as he stood up, tossing his half-eaten pizza slice onto the box on the coffee table. “Then why? Is it because I work too much? Don't pay you enough attention? Am I not enough for you?”

Cas had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Dean, it...it isn't you at all.”

“Cas, is there...is there someone else?” Dean whispered, terrified of the answer.

Cas opened his mouth, hesitated, then spoke. “Yes.”

“That's it? _Yes?_ We've been together _ten goddamn years,_ Cas, and suddenly you have someone else? Fuck you!” Dean yelled. He stalked to the doorway and began yanking on his boots and a coat.

“Where are you going?” Cas asked quietly, his voice thick.

“I'm going to Sam's. Don't wait up.”

The door slammed behind him, leaving Castiel Winchester, nee Novak, alone with his thoughts and tears coursing down his face.

************

An hour later, Dean was passed out on the couch at his brother's apartment. Sam sighed and pulled a blanket over his still, snoring form before grabbing Dean's cell phone. He opened a new message and sent a quick text to Cas, letting him know Dean was okay.

He never got a reply.

The next morning, he figured out why. Over cereal and coffee, Dean admitted to Cas' bombshell the night before. Sam couldn't understand why.

“But, you guys were so happy. Like, sickeningly happy. What happened?” he asked around a mouthful of Fruity Pebbles.

“That's just it, man. I don't know! He said-” Dean broke off as tears clogged his throat. He coughed and swiped a hand across his eyes and finished, “said there was somebody else.”

“No way,” Sam immediately denied. “There's no way! Not only is he so incredibly awkward with most people, he's been in love with you since he was sixteen.”

“Well, you got a better reason?” Dean asked bitterly. “I don't wanna talk about it anymore.”

Sam nodded, allowing them to sink into a strained silence.

************

That afternoon, Dean returned home. Castiel was still sitting on the couch, seeming as though he hadn't moved much since the night before. When his blue eyes caught Dean's, Dean froze for a second before pride took over. “I'm just going to get some of my things. I'll stay with Sam.”

“Dean, no. I want you to keep the house. I had planned to move home, spend some time with my parents.”

Dean swallowed his anger and nodded. “Okay, fine. I'm still gonna spend a few days with Sam. You can have the house to yourself to sort things out.”

Cas nodded and looked away, swallowing his own emotions as he listened to Dean head up the stairs and rummage around in their bedroom. For a moment, a blind panic took over him before cold reason set in.

_This is for the best_ .

Maybe if he repeated it enough times, it would start to feel like the truth...

************

A month later, most of their affairs had been settled. Both men wanted there to be as little hassle as possible, so it all went fairly quickly. Dean kept the house, his beloved Impala, most of the furniture, and some knick-knacks that he'd gotten from his mother years before.

Cas kept his car, a few pieces of furniture he'd brought into the relationship and felt sentimental towards, his own heirloom knickknacks, and the necklace Dean had worn religiously until a falling out with Sam years before. He'd never told Dean he'd dug the thing out of the trash after Dean had gone to bed that night, instead secreting it away for a surprise that somehow never came about.

Dean felt like there was a hole in his chest, one made worse by the bits and pieces he could see were missing from the house and the memories that played in his mind constantly. Finally, unable to take it any longer, Dean packed a bag and left for home.

Mary Winchester welcomed Dean with deceptively strong arms wrapping tight around him the moment he stepped through the door. Tears burned in his eyes and, this time, he let them fall. His bag dropped to the ground as his arms wrapped just as tightly around Mary's waist, allowing himself to cry for the first time since Cas had first spoken those four words.

Mary didn't speak, she simply let Dean cry himself out before leading him to the living room. She made him sit on the couch, looking like a lost puppy, as she made them both a cup of coffee with a generous dose of liquid courage. Dean took the mug automatically, not really coming back to himself until he took a drink of the stout beverage.

“Mom?!” he yelped as the alcohol hit his throat.

Smirking, Mary said, “I figured we could both do with something a little stronger than caffeine by itself.”

Dean looked down at his mug. “Thanks, Mom.”

“We don't have to talk about it, Dean, but I want you to know that I'm here whenever you do want to talk. And, as much as your father puts on a gruff front, he's here for you, too.”

A long silence stretched, one where the two simply drank their coffee and linked pinkies. The small spot of contact helped soothe the aching hole in Dean's chest. Finally, their cups were empty. Mary stood, smiling when Dean immediately stood to follow her into the kitchen. As she washed out the dishes, Dean stepped up beside her with a dishrag to dry them.

“So,” Mary began as Dean put the mugs back where they went. “Your room is probably a little stuffy, so go on up and open a window to let it air out. Sheets are where they always are. I have to get started on dinner.”

Dean smiled tightly at his mother, trying to reign in his emotions as the urge to cry came over him again. He turned and headed back to the entryway, picking up the bag he had dropped when Mary had hugged him before heading up the stairs to his old bedroom. Once he'd opened the window and put fresh sheets on the bed, the tall man collapsed onto the vertical surface and closed his eyes.

Being home was comforting, but it didn't quite take away the hurt that had taken hold of his heart. He just didn't understand it. Why would Cas do this? It didn't make any sense. He and Cas had been through so much. From bullies in high school to Cas' brother being put in jail, they'd been through more than most couples.

The more Dean thought about it, the more it hurt. Tears were a constant presence behind his eyelids these days, though he usually refused to let them fall. Here, in his old bedroom, where he and Cas had hung out more often than not in their later teens, where they'd shared their first kiss, where they'd talked about the future, Dean let himself feel everything he'd been holding back.

Sobs wracked his body as he turned to his side and pulled a pillow close to his chest. After he had cried himself out, Dean fell into a fitful slumber.

************

Dean spent a few days with his parents, relishing the comfort of having them around. Finally, he admitted to himself that it was time to go home.

Walking back into the home he had shared with Cas was like ripping open the wound all over again. For days, he simply drifted along. Wake up, go to work, force down a meal, go to bed. Within a week, he'd lost enough weight to cinch his belt a few notches tighter.

He knew he was not coping well, but he didn't know what else to do. Cas had always been the one to make Dean sit down and eat, relax after a long day, and kiss him until he couldn't remember his own name.

Now, he had no one.

It was a sobering thought. One that reminded Dean that he had to be an adult and take care of himself. He began waking early enough to go for a quick run and eat breakfast before heading to work. He stopped buying microwave dinners and began cooking again. He still went to bed early, but it seemed to agree with him.

Before long, he had gained back the weight he lost, plus a few pounds of muscle. Physically, he'd never felt better. He was still rather fragile emotionally, but every day became a little bit easier than the last.

He was healing.

One day, about eight months after their divorce had been finalized, Dean came home to an official-looking letter in the mailbox. Opening it up, he saw that it was from a law firm across town. It informed Dean that he was a beneficiary in the will of one Castiel Novak.

Dean felt the world crash down around him. The letter clutched in one hand, he grabbed his keys with the other and took off to Sam's.

As he read the letter, Sam's face paled and his eyes welled with tears. Before he could say anything, Dean exploded.

“No! No, no, no, no! He's not dead. He can't be...he can't be dead,” he said in a defeated tone.

Sam swallowed past the lump in his throat and spoke. “The hearing is tomorrow. I'll go with you, if you want.”

Dean, on the verge of tears, simply nodded. He didn't go home that night. Too raw emotionally to be alone, he crawled into Sam's king-size bed and clutched at Sam's hand, much like they had done when they were children, frightened of a storm.

Now, Dean was afraid of the truth.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had always thought that maybe they could work things out. Cas could tell him whatever it was he had done wrong, and Dean could work on fixing it – they'd live happily ever after, like the fairytales he used to read to Sam.

If Cas were truly gone...

Dean didn't get much sleep that night. After stopping by his house for a quick shower and clean clothes, he and Sam headed to the law offices of Milton and Adler. They were shown to a conference room by the secretary, Hannah, and were only there for a few minutes before the lawyer entered the room.

The man was rather short, compared to the brothers, but he held himself with a confidence that took Sam aback. He had seen this lawyer before, but never had the other man looked so somber. From what Sam remembered, he was something of a jokester.

“Morning, gentlemen. My name is Gabriel, and I handled the legal aspects of Mr. Novak's will. Now, he had specific instructions regarding both of you. Sam, Mr. Novak insisted that you be present for the reading of the will, so it's great that you came along.”

When Sam nodded, Gabriel continued. “He stated that the contents of the will are most likely going to be upsetting to you both, so I'll allow you to have the privacy of this room to yourselves until you're ready to leave.”

With the attention of both brothers, Gabriel reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick envelope. “Dean, this was addressed to you. Castiel wanted you to read it last, after everything else is squared away.” He handed the envelope to Dean and waited a moment. “I know you're curious about that, so I'll be brief. Castiel wished for you to stay in the home you two shared, but he signed the deed in case you want to sell it. He sold his car, so no worries about it. He left you both a key to safe deposit boxes at his bank, and said that the things within them were for you to keep. And, Sam, he left this for you.”

He handed Sam a small piece of paper, one that he had written himself, with an address and a plot number. Gabriel watched the tears well in Sam's eyes before the other man fought them back and nodded.

“Well, I'll leave you to it then. Please, take as much time as you need. Nobody will bother you.” With a last handshake to both Winchesters, Gabriel grabbed his briefcase and stood. “I'm so sorry for your loss.”

Sam forced a small smile and a quiet _thank you_ , watching as Gabriel left and closed the door softly behind him. He turned to his brother and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Take your time, Dean.”

Dean stared at the small package in his hands. With a shaky breath, he turned it over and opened it. Inside was a letter, handwritten in Cas' messy scrawl, and a necklace that Dean had never thought to see again. Tears burned his eyes as he handed the necklace to Sam, but he forced them back to read the letter.

* * *

 

_ Dean, _

_ Please know that leaving you was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. And I truly felt it was something I had to do. I love you too much to put you through what I knew was coming. The past few months have been hell without you, worse than the chemo or the sickness. I never knew how strong you made me with just your presence. _

_ I didn't tell you about the cancer because I knew you would fight, harder than anyone ever could, to keep me with you. I didn't have the heart to tell you that it was a useless battle. It was already too far progressed to try to beat into submission; all they could do was try to slow the rate at which it consumed the rest of my body.  _

_ I'm sorry that we never had the chance to have children. Whether adopted or through a surrogate, I know that any child we had would have been loved more than life itself. I'm sorry I always fussed at you about your dirty clothes. Looking back, it seems such an inconsequential thing. I'm sorry for a million things, things you probably don't even remember, but that stick out in my mind as things I could have done differently. A better birthday gift, not complaining about your long hours. _

_ On bad days, I cursed ever meeting you, the perfect match to my soul, the man who I would give everything for. When the pain finally subsided, I always prayed for forgiveness for those thoughts. I'm proud to have met you and known your love. My righteous man, ready to take on the world for those he loves.  _

_ This was one battle I didn't want you to have to fight. I wished to spare you the pain and suffering that I've seen others go through. The useless anger, the need to act against something invisible to the eye.  _

_ Perhaps it was fate, my punishment for turning my back on everything I knew. I would do it all over again if I had the choice. _

_ Dean, loving you was the sweetest gift I have ever known. It was thoughts of you and your love that weathered me through the roughest storms in the last few months.  _

_ I know that you and Sam have mended your bridges, and I am so relieved that you will have him to lean on in the days ahead. Because I knew that one fight, no matter how loud and mean you both got, was going to divide you forever, I found and saved the amulet he gave you when you were kids. I knew how much it meant to you, and I want you to have it back now. Think of me when you wear it? _

_ If that's too cruel of a request, I apologize. The medicine they are giving me now, this close to the end, does strange things to my mind. Some days, it's almost as if I never left. I imagine you sitting on the couch, legs propped on the table and saying something pithy about the show we're watching. Or perhaps I see you outside the kitchen window, working on Baby and cursing with every banged elbow or pinched finger.  _

_ Those are good days.  _

_ I hate to end this abruptly, but I fear I'm nearing the end. They've upped my dosage once again, and I can't focus very well. Please don't be angry at me, Dean. I only had your best interests at heart. _

_ Yours forever, _

_ In life and in death, _

_ Till the end of time, _

_ Castiel _

* * *

 

Tears ran down Dean's face as he read the last of Cas' letter. Anger flowed through him. Anger that Cas hadn't trusted him with this, hadn't let him be there to help or at least say goodbye. He was hurt, as well. Cas hadn't wanted him there.

Sam wrapped an arm around Dean as the older brother laid his head down and cried silently. He spoke softly a moment later. “Dean, do you...want to go see him?”

A shudder ran through Dean, a barely suppressed sob, but he sat up and wiped his eyes before nodding slowly. Sam gathered their things, slipping the deposit box keys, the necklace, and Cas' letter into his pockets before coaxing Dean out of the building. Half an hour later, they stood in front of Castiel's grave.

The numbness that had taken over Dean was shattered by the sight of the headstone.

_Castiel Novak_

_August 20, 1974 – September 30, 2011_

_Yet in this heart's most sacred place, thou, alone, shall dwell forever.  
Moore _

Anger filled him once more. “What happened to _“till death do us part,”_ huh?! Or _“in sickness and in health?”_ Dammit, Cas. Why'd you have to be so fucking _stubborn?”_

Sam stood back and watched Dean yell at a marble stone. He stubbornly pushed away his tears and waited for Dean to crash. It didn't take long. After a few minutes of angry muttering and another bout of yelling, Dean sank to his knees and let his fingers trace Cas' name.

“ _Why?”_ he asked brokenly. 

Sam stepped forward and rested a hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing slightly to let Dean know he was still there. 

They stayed there for almost an hour. Finally, Dean wiped his face and stood. Without looking at Sam, he said, “I want that changed to Winchester,” and began the trek back to the car. 

As he watched Dean stalk away, Sam sighed. Turning back to the stone that marked the resting place of one of his oldest friends, he gently ran his fingers over the top of it. “Goodbye, Cas. I'll take good care of him.” He let a few tears escape before blinking them away and joining his brother. 

 

************

A month later, Dean's wish to have Cas' name changed came through. It may not have been his legal name at the time of his death, but it was one that everyone agreed belonged to him. After ten years of being married to Dean, it was who he had been. Castiel Winchester. 

Dean stood in front of the newly-fixed headstone and sighed deeply. “I'm sorry I wasn't there, Cas. I should have fought for you. I shouldn't have taken no for an answer. I love you so fucking much. I hope you knew that, even at the end. I never stopped, and I never will. I'll see you again someday. And I'm gonna kick your ass for this. But then I'm never going to let you go again.”

The wind blew around him, ruffling the leaves on the trees and sending the scent of flowers swirling around him. For half a second, he swore he felt fingers trace along his jaw. Smiling sadly, he touched the spot and said, “I miss you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Are you happy, Luce? I bawled my eyes out writing this.


End file.
